Aurum Est Potestas
by ezyl
Summary: Rachel Aphen, lover of both disgracing her family name and being uncharitable towards her mother, about to get a dose of faery sense when she meets the scariest creature she's ever seen. Her grandfather Lumpy, the rug faery. Adventurefic.
1. Prologue

**A/N: Okay, let me explain. This is an ORIGINAL faery tale, with snippets from different original canon contemporary novels (ie, Artemis Fowl and Harry Potter. However, this is not a crossover; it has MINOR MINOR references to both fandoms, so I don't see it fit to put it in either fandom). The full disclaimer will be displayed at the end of the story. I had this idea in 5th Grade, when were instructed to write a picture prompt story. Orb, rug faeries, and all that good stuff was created in my head. Last year, I received a challenge to write a faery tale, so, being the lazy bum I am, I just "revamped" my old story (originally entitled "Under The Rug").**

**And so, we got this.**

**I'm going to submit the 40-paged faery tale in parts. This is the prologue.**

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For Alison

You know who you are.

And so do the faeries.

_**Prologue **_

_**Aura, Spring of 50198, **__**AHI (after human infestation)**_

_A storm, promising of slush and pelting rain droplets, erupts from the far side of the mountain, over the grim-looking hills, and the vast, dense darkness that was the lake._

_Thelda, a faerie currently residing on level fourteen in her magical studies, looks out the window with a determined glaze of hardness. She surveys the scene with a slight amount of triumph, it was just as she had predicted. _

_Keeping her gaze locked on the clouds, the sprite returns to her study bench to practice the correct incantation needed for the spell she was about to undertake. Her thin, multicolored, translucent wings; which were sprouting out of her shoulder blades, were tittering in agitation._

_On the faerie's desk lay several things that were of interest. A spell book, filled with a flowery writing of an unknown language, in which Thelda was peering into keenly; lay on the smooth surface of wood. A peculiarly shaped rock shimmered beside it. On the pearly complexion of the stone there were several carved runes, each painted in an accent black polish. A disfigured amount of dried herbs and grasses were clumped together haphazardly together beside the rock, giving off a sweet smell of coriander._

_Thelda was concentrating. The thin brows of her lime-colored skin were tightly knit together; her perfectly pointy nose was slightly scrunched, as if a suspicious smell was in the air; and her long, tapered fingers were balled into fists. A bead of sweat lingered on her temple, taking as long as possible to trickle downward._

_Suddenly, Thelda jumped up from her seat at the table, grabbing the shimmering stone off of her desk, and strides toward the window, throwing the panes open as far as possible. The storm was still raging with gusto outside, flinging handfuls of sleet at the sprite's face._

_With a wave of her hand, and some choice words floating out of the faerie's mouth, the storm stops._

KABLAAAM.

_The stone in her hand cracks open with a deafening sound, knocking its owner off her feet. Out comes the ultimate prize, a tiny golden pebble. It whizzes out the window, just as Thelda was about to catch it in her hand. Her long fingers snatched air._

_How could she have forgotten? _The golden pebble shall resort to any means possible to escape from the owner, _Thelda repeats the ancient rhyme to herself, _and it is thy duty to ensure a strong hold upon it.

_An overwhelming sensation began to spread through Thelda; first as a miniscule tingling in her fingers, then as a colossal wave pounding through her arms, legs, and chest. _

_She screamed._

_Evil ruptured her heart, hatred poured through her blood stream._

_A full-fledged witch materialized…

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_

**A/N: And so this is the prologue! Wut do ya think?**

**Review! I allow flamers.**


	2. 1: Lumpy

Chapter 1 Lumpy

1 2 Years Later; Greenwich, England

Storms are generally impromptu. They never wait for you; they never send a messenger to tell you that there will be a storm. It just happens.

I live in a household where there are constant storms of this type. You can never tell when there will be a storm.

Like now.

CRASH.

"I AM OUT OF THIS HOUSE, ARNOLD! FIRST IT'S YOUR MOTHER…NOW THIS! I DON'T WANT TO STAY WITH THIS…THIS BLACK MAGIC FAMILY ANYMORE!" Ah. Mum, shouting like a madwoman. Another major fit today, I suppose. I can't stand mum and dad shouting like that.

"DAISY! MY FAMILY DOESN'T FIND MISFORTUNE; IT'S USUALLY MISFORTUNE THAT SOMEHOW MANAGES TO FIND US!" Well, now. Dad, hollering wildly. I can picture his face right now. Face blown up, all red from shouting. Gigantic hands billowing about to make his point clear; spit flying everywhere, "AND YOU'RE SETTING A BAD EXAMPLE FOR RACHEL!" I sigh. Somehow, my name always manages to be dragged into these shouting matches.

Ever since mum had stumbled upon the fact that grandma was wed to some mythical creature (according to my eavesdropping expeditions, a faerie), she had become quite the hostile creature, from always shouting at dad to reducing those china plates she _had_ cherished to pieces. I suppose that that CRASH earlier had been another plate. I hope it's not the one with the beautiful blue faerie print on it. I do love that design.

"Rachel," dad's voice trailed out the library and into my room, echoing through the timbre of the thin walls surrounding me, "everything's fine now, mum went out."

His voice sounded wary, as if he had just endured a huge, tiresome battle.

In a way, I suppose he did.

Cautiously, I crept out of my room and down the dimly-lit hallway. To the left of the hallway were a set of gigantic, polished oak doors. Dad was very proud of them; he often told me that they were imported from France. I pushed the heavy paneling, and the doors opened.

The familiar smell of grandma's spicy coriander incense wafted up my nostrils as I entered the threshold. The traditional floor-to-ceiling bookshelves lined the oak-paneled walls, where many glamorous paintings (generally of faeries or nature) hung.

The library was a complete and utter mess. Endpapers were torn from books, atlases were de-shelved, dictionaries were thrown in all directions, and I dared not look at my favorite collection of faery tales.

"Rachel, come over here." Dad's voice broke through the silence of the library.

"Okay," I whisper, carefully treading through loose papers and stepping over encyclopedias to avoid tripping and falling onto the hard binding of a thesaurus.

I walk over to the geography section of the library, where I had heard dad's voice coming from. There was an eerie silence. Silently, I walk up to dad, who had his back towards me. I noted the state of his pinstriped trousers: stained with sweat.

And then I gasp.

It would have been comical, had not the situation demanded it to be quite serious indeed.

There was Arnold Aphen, arms raised up high, hands clutched tightly around the seat of a wooden chair, ready to strike…what?

Yes. _What_, precisely?

Slowly, I walk forward and turn around to see a quivering, lumpy maroon patch of carpet in front of dad's beige print loafers. The color clashed violently with the fluffy green carpet that made up the library's floor.

Despite the fact that dad looked somewhat like a baboon (albeit a rather scrawny baboon with wire-rimmed glasses and a silk shirt), I managed to digest the fact that there was something under the rug (**A/N This was where UTR came from, "under the rug"!**). Upon this thought, the lump shook ominously.

"Dad, what is it?" I ask. There came no reply from him, unless if you count a clamped mouth an answer, he only looked at the lump as if he had swallowed something sour. Dad's contemplation look.

"It _can't_ be," he muttered under his breath.

Suddenly, the thing moves awkwardly, in which a way I cannot describe.

"Good Lord," Dad swore, "I don't _believe_ it. It's a…"

"…rug faerie." A little man of some sort climbed out from under the patch of maroon and finished dad's sentence in a wheezy voice. I gasped in surprise. A stranger creature could not have popped into our library. This man was roughly the size of an overgrown rabbit; had large, watery eyes, each the size of a croquet ball; a yellow bowler hat and waistcoat (which he wore backwards); and the maroon rug on his back.

"A WHAT?" I asked, shooting a questioning look at dad. For the second time today he ignored me. This was getting to be a habit.

"Lumpy!" He finally managed to choke out.

_Lumpy? What kind of name was _that?

Dad finally acknowledges me.

"Ah…Rachel, there you are,"– I wanted to scream – "I would like you to meet Lumpy Aphen, my father. He is a rug faerie," He said jovially, "Father; this is my daughter, Rachel."

Lumpy snorts loudly. I suppose this served as a "greeting" for him.

I couldn't stop myself, the revelation of why my surname was laughed at by everyone and who my mysterious grandfather actually was was really _too much_. My brain refused to accept this fact.

"Rug faerie? What is this dad, a joke? How can this little man be your father, and my granddad?" I blurted out.

Dad looked hurt, and an awkward silence ensued.

But he began again just as quickly.

"Lumpy, dear dad, why are you here? I thought you went into hiding!"

"I did," croaked Lumpy, "But then I had another prediction last night. A major one."

"Another one?" dad sounded really worried, "What happened?"

Lumpy made a face, and then whispered ominously, "I predicted that you-know-who was going to destroy Aura! She's somehow managed to pin-point the exact location of her stone!"

Dad gasped, like a four-year-old listening to a suspenseful tale. I strained my ears to catch what Lumpy was going to say next.

"Rachel, please leave the library," Dad ordered.

Dang.

"Okay," I mumble, trying to plead with the tone of my voice. This was not fair. _What is the point of being elusive when I know you're being elusive?_ I thought, angry with myself.

I crept towards the end of the library, hiding behind a shelf of biographies. Dad saw me.

"Rachel," he was exasperated, "OUT!"

"Fine, fine…" I walk slowly, dragging my feet through the carpet.

The last sentence I heard from my dad and granddad before I crossed through the open library doors was from a rather wheezy voice, "You could have let her stay, you know."

Aha. My first warm feeling towards the little man. It was quickly trampled under by the thought that I had to have a _mythical creature_ stand up for me.

W hen I reached my bed, thousands of questions were billowing in my mind, like little pieces of paper outside on a particularly violent blustery day.

Rug faeries? Predictions? Aura? You-know-who?


	3. 2: Explanations

**Haha! For once, no disclaimer is needed, because Chix is not in this chappie and I have free reign over all my characters! Exept maybe Thelda, who sorta resembles Voldemort. But she doesn't die. And I'm not making any profit off of her. So there.**

Chapter 2 Explanations

Next Day

I hate birds.

They create horrible chirping noises, an absolute necessity for a migraine; they can peck and bite as well as anything (I was unlucky enough to experience that during a field trip to the pet store in my earlier years); and they manage to submit their droppings into the most unusual places, like dad's slippers when he hung them out to dry because of a little bathtub incident.

There's a giant fig tree outside my window, and every morning I am woken up by the rackets those horrible little pests make while gathering figs among the lofty branches. Then I wring my flower-printed silk pillow in angst and scream at the ceiling (plastered with mobiles of butterflies and faeries) for mercy, no doubt in vain.

This morning, it's a bit different. Instead of the usual bird chirps, the sun woke me up. I'd forgotten to close the violet-patterned curtains on my window, and the sun was blaring at me, as useful as any foghorn.

And as I open my eyes to reach for my hair tie, another factor to the usual morning routine makes me scream like a banshee.

"Ahhhh!"

Croquet ball-sized eyes, huge and watery, stared back at me quizzically, as if nothing had occurred at all. _Of course nothing occurred!_ I wanted to shout at him, _because you're a deaf maniac._ Instead, I set out to stare at my granddad in the most disrespectful way possible.

Yet such is impossible, because of the unfortunate fact that my dear Lumpy has the most revolting eyes ever. Yellow irises. _Honestly._ I just had to look away. I swallowed a couple of times to clear my rapidly constricting throat, and blinked back a few tears of anxiety. Contrary to the popular relationship (in which sobbing granddaughters find comfort and solace with their grandparents), my granddad made me feel _so _nervous.

I try to peer around his brown, waxy faerie skin to peer at the alarm clock aboard my dresser. Lumpy gets there before me.

"I know, I know, it's seven-thirty in the morning," he sighs, and jumps back onto his feet. A sickening CRUNCH traveled up to my ears as his feet connected with my leg.

"OW!"

"Rachel!" Lumpy screeches, his bowler hat tipping forward dangerously on his forehead, "I'm SO SORRY!" Immediately he sticks his hands into the pockets of his coat, searching frantically for something; and whips out a shimmering pink stone. The little rock was vibrating, and a carved symbol (of a slightly lopsided wheel with thin, spidery arrows pointing in all directions) on the smooth pink surface looked as if it was alive, spinning rapidly. I stared at the wheel, amazed at what I saw. The wheel on the stone kept spinning faster, and faster, and faster…

Lumpy muttered some incomprehensive words under his breath, while I tried to restrain the tears in my eyes from floating freely down my cheeks. What did my horrible granddad just do? It took a lot of strength just to stay conscious, and a sudden dizziness overcame me.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the pale pink stone shiver slightly, and then a beam of blazing white light shoot the surrounding air.

I heard a sharp cracking sound as my leg bone snapped back into place, and the blood stream was restored to a regular flowing pace. My skin, where the protruding sharp point of bone had poked through the soft epidermis, miraculously sewed itself back together and the sudden pain in my lower region disappeared as quickly as it had come. I gasped a sigh of relief and then recollected the events of the past minutes.

"How did you do that?" I asked Lumpy.

"I'm a faerie," he replied, the corners of his mouth rising in an attempt to smile. He failed miserably. Stowing the stone back into his pocket, he regained his original position on my legs and peered at me intently, "and no, I do not need to go to the bathroom."

I blinked at him, stunned. How did he know what I was going to say?

Lumpy, being my oblivious granddad did not notice my obvious discomfort and continued in his ever-wheezing voice, "I came here to explain some things to you. No doubt your head is still buzzing with questions about our little meeting last night in my library. Yes, it _is _my library; similar to how this estate that you're living in is mine too."

I digested this fact.

"What is it you want to tell me?" I ask, with amounting curiosity.

"A true story," his voice echoed strangely around azure blue walls of my room, "a story that has _everything_ to do with you."

Yet again, this little man has managed to guess what I was about to say.

"Well," I scratch my ear in thought, "what is this story about?"

"Aura."

"What's Aura?"

"Aura, my dear, is a planet located in the Galaxy of Ignis. It is too far away to be detected by humans."

So Aura was a planet.

"Why is it so far away?"

"Well," Lumpy's eyes bulged unpleasantly, "originally it wasn't that far away from the center of the Milky Way, but about 50,000 years ago we moved it away to the Ignis Galaxy, and added magic to the atmosphere so no humans will ever be able to penetrate us."

"But why did you move away?"

"There were several problems involving some technologically advanced Martians."

I was skeptical. "Is this real?"

"Let's put it this way: I'm not a loony."

His contradictory obviously signified the fact that this was real, and I was not in some far-fetched dream.

I fingered the silk lining of my dressing gown.

"Just why are you telling me this?"

"It's about time you should know," Lumpy scratched his chin and wiggled his eyebrows, "just how dangerous it is for you to be in Greenwich."

"About time?"

"Yes," more chin-scratching and a wrinkling of a potato-shaped nose, "about time. Now, let me tell you…"

His eyes grew misty with time, and seemed to deflate in front of me.

"There was once a time in Aura, when all creatures lived in harmony. All faeries, including rug faeries, elves, and sprites could use magic; and our governing system consisted solely on monarchy."

"Monarchy!" I exclaimed, interested.

Lumpy climbed out of his dream-like trance to reprimand me, "Leaping leprechauns, Rachel. Will you shut up for one bloody minute! I'm trying to concentrate here!"

His sudden explosion caught me by a surprise, and I shut my lips against each other.

"Yes, monarchy," Lumpy's thick, heavy-set brows relaxed and he returned to his story, "Faeries use power stones to conjure magic," at this he pulled out his shimmering stone and showed me the black runes engraved around the spinning wheel-of-arrows design, "and they receive a power stone at birth. More accurately, a power stone is set into their belly-button when they are conceived into the world. Thus begins a faerie's magical studies, in which levels are gained after the learning of a new spell. When a faerie reaches level thirteen, her power stone will crack open to reveal a secret most dire…"

"What's the secret?" I interrupt.

Lumpy forgot to reprimand me; he was too busy being mysterious, "No one knows, except for the faerie themselves. You see, it takes great skill to reach level thirteen, and, for the last 1000 years, only one faerie had made it that far. I am here because of her."

"What level are you on?" I ask.

"Level twenty-six. My specialty is divination, the art of predictions."

I gasp. "So YOU know the secret to power stones?"

"Of course not!"

"But you're thirteen levels higher than thirteen!"

"My dear, I believe that you have gotten it wrong. The system of levels in magic works backwards. Faeries start their education at level 1000 and work their way down. The highest level of magic is one. That is mine – and everyone else's goal –." Lumpy paused to dust non-existing lint off of his stone, "Anyways, like I was saying, only one faerie, in the last millennium, has made it to past 987 levels to become our queen."

"Queen?"

"Yes, this is where the 'monarchy' part of our government comes in.

"Yet, when this faerie became queen, there was a slight problem."

"What problem?" I asked Lumpy. He paused, waiting to build up suspense.

I repeated my question, but my granddad seemed to suddenly become preoccupied with his dirt-encrusted fingernails. He was now chewing on his grimy-looking nails as if they were the most scrumptious things on Earth. I looked away, disgusted, and my eyes fell upon the power stone that lay forgotten on the floor. I plucked it off my white shag carpet and slipped it into my nightgown pocket while Lumpy wasn't watching. The stone produced an odd, fragile light that illuminated my hand as I patted it gently. When my fingers connected with the stone, a vibrant jolt shot through my skin, and I caught a glimpse of a solitary red spark slithering up my skin and out of sight. It was an exhilarating sight.

Lumpy began again, after further examination of his nails.

"Well, twelve years ago…" he paused, checking his nails again, "a faerie sprite got to level thirteen. Incidentally, this faerie, Thelda, is my sister. She is now queen of Aura.

"In the beginning, as it always is in the beginning, Thelda was a genuinely nice faerie. She sponsored the environmental dwarves' projects and maintained a gradual yet efficient peace. But we all knew that something was wrong."

"What happened?" I asked, while gazing sharply at the stone in my pocket. It provided an emanation that surpassed anything I had ever felt. Euphoria bubbled up from my throat and a sudden smile spread on my features.

"Sources tell us that, upon stopping a storm, her stone flew out the open window. She had lost her stone. The parting of a power stone with its host is disastrous. Apart from depression, other side effects can occur, such a loss of virtues and…uh…evilness."

"Evilness?" I was puzzled.

"Yes. It is believed that, in the beginning, Thelda managed to keep a strong hold upon her evilness, powerful faerie as she was. But, because the departure of her stone had become so long, the evilness has begun to show in her. Just three years earlier, she lost control over the evil and has, recently, been terrorizing Aura with her new brand of dark magic." Lumpy's face twisted into an unrecognizable pattern at this thought. His nose turned upwards, and his eyes shrunk with fear. The maroon rug on his back fluttered in an invisible wind.

"And now, Thelda is known by everyone, except some select faeries, as you-know-who."

Some of the happiness on my face ebbed away as I realized the seriousness of the situation. Aura was in danger. But I was still in confusion.

"What does this have to do with me?"

Lumpy stroked his chin and licked at the dirt lodged in between his nails, "Ah, I thought you'd never ask. Well, recently, Thelda has been conducting some secret research. One of my trusted friends, he works in the palace, informed me that she has managed to locate the whereabouts of her power stone, and has taken to reading old faerie scriptures regarding ancient dark spells, used by dark faeries and goblins."

"So?" I ask blatantly, "This has nothing to do with me."

"I have been in hiding for the last twelve years," Lumpy rubbed the bridge of his nose vigorously and then plodded on, "though once in a while a friend of mine would come around and drop off a piece of information or two. This was how I learned about that new spell."

"What new spell?" I flicked dust off the power stone and looked at the runes etched carefully around the symbol.

"The Humanus Spell. If you've studied Latin before, then you would realize that this spell has something to do…"

"With _humans_," I murmur, having learnt the language at the age of four.

"Yes. This spell, the Humanus Incantation, results in having the applicant's power stone's energy removed from the stone but into the faerie's body itself. It's a strong brand of magic, and most faeries will not be able to withstand the power it transmits."

"You mean," A bead of sweat popped out of my head, "that it's _dangerous_?"

"Yes," Lumpy replies, thoroughly enjoying himself in the suspense of the moment, "But because of Thelda's achievement of reaching level thirteen, her magical field, in turn, has expanded considerably. There is a possibility that she will be able to hold all that magic within her, and become the most powerful faerie in the history of Aura."

"What'll happen then?" I was enraptured.

"No doubt she'll convert all the energy she receives into a negative power."

I sigh, "But there is still nothing about it that has to do with _me_."

Lumpy wiggles his eyebrows again, and the rug on his back flops unpleasantly, "Oh, but that's exactly where you come in, my dear. For you see," he makes an awkward gesture, his hands turning upside-down, "the spell Thelda has planned requires a few, uh,_ items_."

"Items?" I repeated blankly.

"Yes. A leg, an arm, a power stone of level thirteen, and a human relation of the same sex as the faerie. And, because your grandmother kicked the bucket and your mother is not connected to Thelda by blood; you, my dear, are the only one that will satisfy Thelda's requirements."

I gulped, my head dizzying in the dawning of my importance. I felt my gut tighten. All of a sudden I couldn't breathe. Soon, if I don't manage to do something about it, I'll be an ingredient to a powerful magical spell. I shifted uncomfortably. The soft, fleecy pillows under me didn't help at all. It was as if a giant hand had turned the remote off to everything around me. There was a deathly silence.

Of course, a silence can never remain for long with Lumpy around.

"I'm here to put my son and granddaughter into hiding with a few friends I trust. It's absolutely necessary, what with Thelda chasing you around half the universe, so don't argue with me. 'Stiltskin knows you're as stubborn as a mule." He gave a short, wheezing laugh.

"Did dad agree?" I squeaked, still weak from the recent revelation.

"Yes, of course he wouldn't want his little girl attacked by his faery aunt. I wouldn't have wanted that to happen to Arnold either."

"Where are we going? When? Is dad coming?" I regained my power of speech and immediately bombarded Lumpy in questions. I was shaking, and Lumpy, who was still sitting on my legs (they were starting to fall asleep) started shaking too. Lumpy jumped off my bed and landed with grace I would've never guessed of him onto the carpet. His wrinkly brown feet sunk into the fibers of my shag carpet.

"I cannot tell you where we're going, Rachel," he shrugged, and the maroon patch fluttered again, "but we are leaving tomorrow. Of course your dad will be accompanying you. We are afraid that Thelda might take him as a hostage."

"Who is 'we'?" I shuddered, imagining my encounter with more rug faeries. Ugh.

"Oho! My other four friends, Gumpy, Humpy, Pumpy, and Jumpy."

Such names!

I was reminiscing of my fate (being boiled in a fetid smelling cauldron) and didn't realize Lumpy leaving the room quietly, all the while leaving a track of dirty footprints on my rug.

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**A/N: Hm. Sound okay? Please review, and thanks for reading this. I realize that no one is really reading my Fairy tale, so I'm just posting it for the heck of it. But, please, review. I wrote this last year, and frankly, I don't really care this point. You can flame too, if ya want to.**


	4. InterChapter Scene

**Got bored. So decided to update, though I no one is really reading this fic. Except my chum mycattuna, who's only doing it cause she feels sorry for me...heh.**

Inter-chapter Scene

Aura, Summer of 50210, AHI

_The fiery red globe that was the sun flared from the horizon, illuminating the transparent wings of one sprite as he cleaved the air at top speed, brandishing a single, rolled-up piece of parchment in his slender, green fingers. A grin flitted across on the face of the sprite. He enjoyed flying; it was a sliver of his soul, a shred of his heart. Flying was his life. _

_The top-priority messenger swam through the wind and scattered a flock of sparrows in flight, all the while climbing higher and higher in the pinking sky of dawn, searching for the familiar landmark among the thick growth of the country beneath him, which consisted of a fast -paced river, twisting and turning like a serpent among stark undergrowth and lush forests of aspen. In the distance, he could see the Hills of Yonder, and, beyond that, the dense, craggy mountains that made up the H'rathmir Miles Militia Mountain Range. At the foot of the hills there was a dense fill of dark blue; the lake. To the south of the lake, stood a somber castle, a mass of turrets and towers._

_The sprite, whose wings now flashed in the light of the sun, soared towards the thick brickwork of a castle, aiming for the familiar tower room that served as the queen's study. Nowadays, no one dared to enter the room anymore, except for the queen's servants and her officials. He sifted through the air and angled his wings at the tall, airy, bay window beneath him. A spiraling descent followed._

_The messenger landed without incident upon the landing pad constructed especially for him outside the window panes. His right hand rifled through his pockets, until they unearthed a tiny silver key. The sprite then fed the key into a near invisible fissure on the smooth surface of the window, and turned a miniscule silver handle along a groove between the thick panes._

_The glass window swung open without a sound, and the sprite jumped onto the smooth wooden floor in the study, swift as a cat. He stood up, immediately flattening himself on the floor once again. The queen was seated at her desk, engrossed upon a thin, black book in her hands. _

_He stood there for what seemed like forever, until Thelda (for indeed it was her) looked up from her book and noticed the sprite._

"_Well?" she demanded furiously, stretching out her hand for the letter. _

_Immediately the sprite stood up, bowed, and presented the rolled up piece of parchment in his hand to the queen, "Your majesty," he mumbled, fear evident in his face._

_Thelda took the parchment and unrolled it unceremoniously. She pilfered its contents and then set the parchment on fire to destroy the message. A smile settled upon her features._

**A/N: Yeah. So there. I won't tell you who the delivery boy is, but I think you can hazard a guess. **

**Reviews!**

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	5. 3: Aura

**Hn. I was REALLY bored. So just updated again. We're nearly there...bear with me, and please read it!**

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Chapter 3 Aura

Next Day

If anyone told you that you cannot be woken up by someone breathing down your back, then they're most certainly wrong. I was lying perfectly still, in a dreaming state under my faerie printed covers, when my nightgown pocket gave a shiver. I had forgotten that the stolen power stone was still submerged among the silky folds of the fabric. It seemed to give off heat for the whole night, and I was not a subject to the cold while sleeping.

Then, in my subconscious mind, I felt a slight shiver creep up my back, along my neck, and then a full force of foul smelling breath hit me. I screamed in my sleep, and open my eyes.

"Ahhhh!"

_Five_ pairs of croquet ball sized eyes, each with a different pastille colored iris, glared back at me. I screamed at them to get off my bed. All five pairs of eyeballs whipped out of sight, to be replaced by a blinding white light. I tumbled out of bed, momentarily blinded. A segment of the flashing light separated and directed itself towards me. I yelled.

What happened next was incredible. The power stone in my nightgown pocket levitated itself and flew towards that single ray of light…and into my granddad's hand.

"Rachel!" He seemed distressed, "What have you done?" He took off his bowler hat and started wringing it in his sweaty palms, having slipped the power stone into his pocket.

I was thoroughly puzzled, "What do you mean, what have I done?"

Lumpy looked at me, amazement etched in his eyes, "You've managed to relocate some of the magic in my power stone into yourself; though I don't see how it is possible, because, Rachel, you are a human. In your veins, there is only a miniscule amount of faerie blood."

"No matter, Lumpy, we are not here to puzzle over the girl's heredity," A brisk voice interrupted my granddad. I peered around; a rug faerie with a pink bowler hat and waistcoat appeared by my side. He swiveled his power stone around in his hand, and then stowed it away, but not before I caught a glimpse of the symbolic design etched into the surface of the pale green stone. It was an ancient cross, engulfed by twisting vines, "We are here to transport your human relations to safety." Then the faerie pulled out his stone again, muttered some words under his breath, and I found myself dressed in the oddest attire I've ever seen: a blue waistcoat and matching bowler hat. Disgusted, I shrugged them off and gave them back to green bowler hat. He shrugged, waved his hand, and the clothes disappeared.

"Rachel," Purple bowler hat chirped. I cringed at the sound, "We shall meet you in the loo."

_The loo? Did I hear correctly?_

"Yes, Rachel, the loo," My granddad (Ugh! He's reading my mind again!) patted me on the small of my back with his grubby hands. I cringed again, "and do hurry up and pack. Arnold is already finished himself."

Then, as quick as they had come, the ragtag bunch of rug faeries disappeared out my door. Good riddance.

I sighed and pulled on a pair of denim capris embroidered with tiny flowers on it, and a long-sleeved t-shirt with the words "Faery Girl" printed on the chest. I disposed of my nightgown and threw it into an unused duffel bag. Then I walked across the room and violently jerked the wooden door of my closet open. A stack of freshly laundered clothes fell on my head upon the sudden movement. I groaned. My eyes still hurt from that horrible white light.

Shrugging off a pair of underwear that managed to lodge themselves onto the messy curls of my horrible dark brown hair and kicking off a cardigan that landed on my slippers, I growled in anger. I can't get up in the morning without causing some kind of mayhem.

I threw the whole lot into the duffel bag, picked it up along with a sleeping bag and a pillow, and marched towards the bathroom. I came back quickly, having forgotten my stuffed unicorn. This was truly a bad day. I picked the creature up by its rhinestone-studded choker and unceremoniously dumped her into my duffel bag.

"RACHEL! HURRY _UP_!" There came the distant bellowing of my granddad's wheezy voice. I picked everything up from my carpet once more and kicked off my slippers.

"Coming," I shouted back, and tottered out of my room, straining slightly under the weight of the duffel bag.

I exited the upper floor and heaved my luggage down a set of polished stairs, groaning slightly as I accidentally tripped down the last two stairs. I could have been in better spirits when I reached the closed door of our bathroom.

Pushing open the door, I regarded the atmosphere. It was definitely one of the stranger scenes I've ever laid my eyes upon. The group of rug faeries that I encountered this morning, along with Lumpy, was forming a circle in the marble tub, which was already full to the brim with purple bubble bath water. Surprisingly, the faeries were not wet at all. In fact, they looked as dry as was possible. Every one of them was clutching a power stone and mumbling unintelligible words, except for Lumpy, who was swearing at his stone, which he had just smashed against the wall of the tub. I winced as a small indentation formed against the edge of the overflowing water. Some portions of the bubbly liquid settled onto the wet bathroom rug.

"Father specifically requested for the bubbles, so I'm sorry that I used up the rest of the bottle, Rachel," dad was standing a little ways from me, gazing without blinking at the rug faeries positioned in the tub. His hands were clasped around the handles of two extremely bulky trunks, and he was sporting his swimming clothes. I glanced down at my capris. _Perhaps I should change too_, I thought, and reached for the string tie of the duffel bag.

Lumpy noticed my actions, "There is no need, Rachel!" He cried exuberantly, "I assure you, you will not get wet in the tub! Now, grab your bags and hop in!"

Wondering if this was some nefarious trick thought up Lumpy, I hesitantly gathered up my bags again, and stepped into the tub of water.

I did not get wet. Ah well. That's to be expected.

"Your turn, now, Arnold, love," Lumpy shifted aside to allow dad and his trunks to climb aboard. Dad reluctantly stuck his leg into the tub and then heaved his belongings in.

"Here we go," Lumpy muttered, as Dad settled himself within the water. Then, without further warning, I felt the sensation being flipped backwards. I fell into the streaming purple bubbles below, and my head felt rather dizzy all of a sudden…

BOOM.

A sharp pain invaded my rear end as I gathered up my thoughts once more. Traveling by water was definitely not my favorite way to move. I gazed around blearily. We were in a cavernous room, with a set of gigantic stone doors at the other end of the hall. Large, colored stone tiles made up the flooring, and upturned furniture littered the floors. A huge crystalline chandelier hung menacingly over me, threatening to fall on my head. Several doors, all hanging open, led out of the huge room into separate chambers. I surveyed the fountain behind us, the only object that appeared to function correctly in the room.

The sound of a rug faerie murmuring, "Where me…?" startled me, and I realized that the faeries were still with me. They were all lying on the cold, hard flagstones surrounding the fountain, and were beginning to moan and wake up. I found Lumpy's figure. He was sprawled across a red colored stone tile, the rug on his back flipped over his head, revealing an unsightly thatch of curly red hair on his back. I peered at it in disgust; it was revolting. There were bits of dirt and small insects entangled in the mass of hair.

Then, one of Lumpy's comrades wakes up. He wiggles a bit and then jumps up, prodding me in the stomach with his foot.

"Oi, you awake yet?" He shouts, leaning down towards me, until I could smell his horrid breath. His pointy ears, each the color of dirt, brushed against my hair. I shivered, disgusted.

Shifting out of his range, I stood up shakily, wobbling a bit as I stepped forward on the flagstones, slick with water from the fountain. I concentrated on not falling on the tiles, getting out of the slippery area as fast as possible.

Suddenly, a figure bounded towards me, maroon rug flapping behind him. It was Lumpy.

"Welcome to Aura, Rachel!" My granddad screeched, pulling his features into an ugly grin. His bowler hat tipped forward and toppled off the tip of his head, showing a horribly filthy bald patch. It rolled along the ground towards my feet.

And that was when I lost my footing.

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**A/N: I don't think anyone but me and my teacher (and possibly, mycattuna?) have gotten this far. Please review! (this is a pointless plea, but please just say SOMETHING...I don't care whether or not you read the whole thing through...)**


	6. InterChapter Scene 2

**I don't care that no one is reading this. I'm just posting this. It's too boring for you, huh? Oh, well. I like it. It's one of my biggest story, not counting my RPG Fanfic.**

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Inter-chapter Scene

Aura Castle, 50219 AHI

_The stone halls of ancient Aura Castle are bare, except for a lonely oil lamp or two lodged in rusty torch brackets along various stretches of wall. It seemed to wait with abated breath. Silence was the only thing that rebounded against the corridors, though a steady _drip drip _of water droplets seeking gravity echoed from somewhere above. _

_Then, quite suddenly, a slight shadow emerges, growing wider and taller as its owner draws nearer and nearer. A figure, first insubstantial in the stagnant glow of the oil lamps, then slowly solidifying, materialized at the end of the stone hallway. _

_A rattling, shaky breath issues from the creature._

_And along with the figure there came footsteps. Heavy, staggering footsteps clanking across the barren halls, sending echoes up the staircase the figure was mounting and a chill down every nearby creature's spine as the faery mounted each step carefully, as if considering something each time it took a cautious step up towards the tower room above. _

_Grunting sounds emitted from the end of the faerie's throat as it climbed the steep spiraling stairs with difficulty. Small beads of sweat popped up among the dense roots of the faerie's chestnut brown hair, and he wiped them away gruffly with the maroon rug on his back. _

_The continuation of the sound of footsteps reverberates through the stairs, and then becomes muffled as it ventures onto the set of stairs padded with an earth-colored hide rug._

_At last, the faerie clambers up the last step of the tightly winding staircase. The closed door of the tower room stood silently in front of him. He slumps against the wall, panting slightly from the efforts of scaling the steep staircase. _

_Gathering the last of his reserve, the faerie stands up and straightens his bowler hat, which had slumped off to the side. He rebuttoned his waistcoat and smoothed out the wrinkles on the fabric; then, taking a deep breath he pushed the heavily paneled door open, without bothering to knock._

_Thelda's study consisted of several large oak shelves encrusted with spell books, potions ingredients, and magical instruments; a fine mahogany desk filled curious artifacts; and a somberly carved armchair, the faerie's style of Genuine Victorian furniture (in fact, humans had adopted their own rendition from the faerie's Victorian style of carving and architecture). Sunlight poured through the open window, illuminating the contents of the study and submitting the chirping sounds of a flock of pigeons nearby. _

_Thelda was, once again, poring through the contents of her thin, black hide-bound book. Queer words popped out of her mouth once in a while, swirling around like snowflakes, mingling with the slight lilt in her accent. She was twirling a strand of her silver, waist-length hair, which was currently curled up into a bun; brows furrowed deeply, driving wrinkles into her perfect pixie nose; when the huge study doors were violently flung open, revealing a rug faerie._

_For a while Thelda just stared at him, speechless. No one ever entered the tower room without knocking, unless, of course, they were inflicted with _faerie dementia_._

"_Your highness," the faerie's grubby fingers swiped for the pink brim of his bowler hat as he bowed awkwardly, his nose scraping the hard, wooden floor, "I have come with ill tidings."_

_Thelda released her book from her grasp and jumped, catlike, onto the silk padding rug surrounding the outskirts of her desk, "Faerie, you have deliberately crossed the threshold of my study without acknowledgement of me. You had better provide a decent explanation for this action, or you will be subjected to –"_

_The rug faerie cut her off, "Your majesty, I must insist, for this is much more important than a trial or execution. It's about your brother…"_

_Thelda's expression became more angled, and her facial features twisted into a feral expression. _**_Naughty boy. Wonder what their gonna be up to next._**

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**Shut up, Yami.**

**PLEASE REVIEW! I don't care, flame or something. JUST REVIEW.**


	7. 4: Kidnapped

**Next one. I'm getting bored. But I'll upload until I'm finished the story.**

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Chapter 4 Kidnapped

Aura, 50210 AHI

The clattering of plates and the scraping of chairs against the heavy tiles in the drafty old room indicated the end of dinner.

And whilst everyone was laughing and chatting on full stomachs, I was propped up underneath scratchy blankets in my makeshift bedchamber and forced to glare at the growing mildew in the corner of the wall, my stomach rumbling like thunder. _No one had thought of bringing _me_ any dinner_, bitter thoughts swarmed through my mind. I huffed and glared harder at the creeping mildew. Then I blazed my eyes at the earwig bug on the wall, scowling at it. Stupid bug.

I screamed in anger, and a searing pain shot through my scalp.

I sighed, and rubbed my bandaged head self-consciously. Why must all these things happen to me?

Footsteps echoed along the stone walkway that led to my bedchamber. I cast my glare at the door, ready to growl at whoever was walking towards my room.

That unlucky person turned out to be none other than Arnold Aphen.

He was carrying a tray of steaming mashed potatoes and a bowl of thick gravy sauce, along with a glass of water and a plate of pie. Despite the trickles of saliva threatening to leak out of my half-open mouth, I maintained a steady glare.

"What are you doing here?" I asked dad in the rudest voice I could muster.

He seemed taken aback, but merely hung onto the tray of food and stood his ground, "Rachel, what do you think I'm doing?" He plucked at a piece of beef floating in the boat of thick, brown, gravy, "Of course, it's understandable that you don't _want_ to eat anything…"

Dad sat on the edge of my bed, gazing unblinkingly into my eyes. The standard _are-you-challenging-me? _look. I sighed and reached out for the tray of food, though grudgingly.

"That's better," dad watched me descend upon the food like a hungry pack of wolves; "Though I should think dad and his comrades can do better than to start yelling." He muttered bitterly.

So I wasn't the only one who was furious.

"Wutyamee?" I asked, my voice garbled through the amount of mashed potatoes I had tried to engulf. Dad stared at me pointedly. I swallowed, and then downed half of the glass of water in one gulp, "What do you mean?" I repeated my query.

"They're making rackets worthy of the birds outside your window," dad jerked his thumb down the walkway, made an indifferent face, and went on, "and I really hope that the people who are after us don't hear the noise they're making."

"How could they possibly hear us?" I finished my mashed potatoes and went on to the piece of apple pie.

Dad sighed and shivered, "Incidentally, father had the notion that our hideout be placed within the Queen of Aura's palace itself. Quite foolish, if you ask me. This room that we are currently occupying is sealed off to the castle. It's an abandoned ballroom. According to dad, no one comes down here anymore, because it's supposed to be 'haunted'."

"'Antr?" I mumbled through the last crumbles of pie.

Dad glared.

I repeated, "Haunted?"

"Yes, by the shouting and yelling of father's friends. I seriously doubt their reliability, if you ask me." And, with that said, dad grabbed the empty tray from my hands and marched out the doorway, bearing an air of distinct grouchiness.

I listened to the echoes of his footsteps slapping against the stone floors until they were gone, and then slid back contentedly into the itchy pillows. I went back to glaring at the mildew.

Then I felt a slight bump against my stocking feet. There was a little, hardened knob that prodded against me. It felt oddly warm and light, yet I felt sure it was some sort of rock.

It was, indeed, something intriguing. And so, curiosity getting the better of me, I reached out my hand and attempted an unsuccessful grab at whatever lay between my feet.

A sharp jolt of pain seized my skull as I tried to move my head, feeling like I had suddenly set my brain on fire. Obviously, just grabbing for this lump will not result in anything but pains in my skull.

Slowly, I shifted my foot so it provided a scoop to sweep the lump towards my hand. I stretched my fingers and reached for the lump, straining on them until they threatened to pop from their sockets. Groaning from a slight headache, I pushed my hand forward another centimeter, and managed to touch the tip of the little bump.

As soon as the pads of my fingertips came within contact of the surface of the lump, I felt a slight bolt of energy shoot up my arm, not unlike the time I had nicked Lumpy's power stone. I saw a miniscule red spark shoot up my arm and my skin absorbed it as easily as an ocean absorbing a droplet of water. The spark sent a prolonging tingle up my arms, my chest, my neck…suddenly, my head felt extremely clear, as if I had just drunk a liter of excruciatingly fresh spring water. The bandages on my head unraveled as if by magic, and the lump on my fingers was suddenly vibrating at an inhuman speed, and it suddenly clasped itself tightly within my palm. I lifted my hand up from under the covers, and inspected the odd lump.

A small pebble, about the size of a single grape appeared before me. It was still vibrating at an extreme frequency, and its gold-colored sheen gave off a slight aura of, well…goodness. I gazed at it for a long time, until the vibration tingling through my arms slowed and finally drifted to a stop. I stared it. _It's probably pure gold, _I mused to myself.

And that's when I heard the quick, rushed footsteps of someone making their way towards my door. I hurriedly stowed the stone away in my pocket, feeling a soft tingling in my thigh, where the stone came into contact with my skin. For some odd reason, I didn't want to share my new finding with anyone. It seemed to be my own special secret.

And then, a miniscule flying object, flinging into the air out of absolutely no where, flitted through the air in a speed I thought impossible. It hit me square on my left temple. I groaned and fell unconscious for the second time today.

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**I'll bet Rachel is dying of boredom. Yup, she is. Please review. Make her (and me) feel better.**


	8. 5: Thelda

**Haha! Nearly done!**

**Disclaimer: Everything but but the prettyboy sprite is mine...**

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Chapter 5 Thelda

Aura Castle, 50210 AHI

A death-like gloom fills the heavy stone-layered walls around me. The wooden floorboards beneath me seemed out of place with everything else surrounding it. They were highly polished and didn't seem to creak upon any pressure on it at all. Odd.

"The Queen of Aura is demands to see Rachel Aphen."

I grimaced.

The smell of grandma's coriander incense suddenly greeted my nose.

Thelda drifted gracefully down the roughly-cut wooden banister of the stairs, supported by the thin, colored membrane of her wings. Visiting your grandniece, no matter what state she happened to be in, was a brilliant cause to show off finery and elaboration of clothing. A slight wrinkle to her pointed nose identified the fact that she was indeed unimpressed by the state of the room; and a raised brow pointed out that, if she was given the choice, she would have not ventured down in this area of the castle. Though, indeed, Thelda had forced herself to come down here.

And as my great aunt flitted through the air, elegantly dressed in a beautifully hewn gown of intertwined strands of color-changing mist, I gulped. There is an obvious difference from a pair of dirtied and sweat-soaked capris than to a dress of the shards of mist.

I watched her wings, which were slowing down from a fast-paced vibration to a slow and sluggish beat. Thelda lighted down with the air of a swan on the first step of the banister, the tips of her bare feet brushed the floor softly, and she picked her way across the wood flooring towards me, with a childlike daintiness.

As the sprite walked towards me, I could make out my great aunt's features. A round face, yet equipped with a pointy jaw and nose; harsh, blue, unforgiving eyes that glittered with malice and triumph; round, green-skinned cheeks that were smooth and unblemished; and full, plump, cherubic lips that made her look just a few years older than me. This totally freaked me out. I had expected that my great aunt would be the vision of ugliness; complete with a face full of warts and a hooked nose, perhaps even a bushy uni-brow (Thelda's eye brows were thin and arched).

I guess that my shock was relayed onto my face. "Surprised?" Thelda said with an air of distinctive snobbiness, staring up at my face (she was only three feet in height, and had to look up at me when I was sitting). The greenish glow of her fair skin blazed and turned a deeper, richer shade of green.

I shook my head slowly, keeping my narrowed eyes on her, "_You wish_," I replied, trying to keep myself from shaking with fear. _Its funny how strikingly beautiful features scare me more than an ugly face,_ I thought to myself, bringing up the image of Lumpy in my head.

Thelda jumped back suddenly, as if shocked by a bolt of lightning. Her bare feet pounded the floor boards with a sharp _thump_, and the fringes of her dress swished violently.

"YOU FOOLS!" She shouted, her skin turning the hue of dark cyan, "WHAT DID I TELL YOU ABOUT THE GAG?" She immediately thrust her thumbs into each hole of her ear, "_WHAT DID I TELL YOU?_"

Six faeries, running forward as quick as they could, their legs a blur, rushed towards me. Three faeries grabbed my head and forced it downwards, cricking my neck in the process (I yelped in pain); two of them grappled at my legs, restraining them from bucking forward; and one stuffed a foul rag in my mouth, securing it in place with an odd, steel-looking twine. After completing their task, they backed off, bowing deeply.

Thelda released her ears from the grip of her long, green fingers and she sighed, her skin returning to a regular tinge of emerald green.

"Well, now, Rachel," she clapped her hands gleefully, "I shall proceed."

I glared at her.

"I'm glad that, at any rate, my grandniece shows courage," Thelda laughed softly.

I wanted to spit at my great aunt, but I had a moldy rag in my mouth.

"Well, then," Thelda smiled voraciously, showing her pearly white teeth, "to work."

I looked down, and felt a sharp nudge against my toe. A slight tingle went down my bare foot, within my wooly sock. I gasped, and withdrawing my breath slightly. A plan began to form in my mind.

"…obviously Lumpy had informed you what I'm about to undertake, so I won't waste any time talking to you about it," Thelda's voice came back to me, as covetous as ever, "and I will most certainly not reveal any more of the plan to you, as I have calculated the situations and it is entirely plausible for you to escape…" once more my great aunt became unfocused in my mind. I concentrated on trying to let that red spark from the golden stone emerge again.

I felt the my big toe graze the surface of the rock ever so slightly, and watched again in amazement as a tingling spark shoots up my leg. A warm, fuzzy feeling bounced around through my body, and I feel the welts on my wrists and ankles disappear as the sparks heal them.

_Hmmm, I wonder what would happen if I could _siphon_ a bit of the magic off, and burn the bindings loose._

_Yeah, like that…_

_WOOHOO! I'm free!_

The ropes from around my hands and feet seemed to fall away as they were cut through by the sparks of magic invested in my body. The thin, iron cord that secured my gag seemed to loosen a bit. And I had a pretty good idea of why they had gagged me…

I held my hands and feet together against the legs of the wooden chair, pretending that I was still bound against it. I clamped my teeth against the filthy rag, trying my best to make the impression that I was still gagged and struggling furiously.

This next step of mine is totally based upon theory and luck. Obviously, it would be very difficult. The manipulation of magic must require a lot of strength.

I craned my head around the room. As far as I could see, Thelda was the only faerie in here with me. Two sentries stood outside the door, but they were each deeply absorbed within their selves. One was reading a tiny, thin book that had pages as thick as onion skin. The other was (I turned away quickly) absent-mindedly picking his nose, sticking his stubby fingers into each nostril and swiveling it around and around until it made me sick. The element of surprise would be on my side.

"…Now, my dear," Thelda, continued, playing with a fragment of her silvery hair, as if she were a mere child, "we shall start…" She snapped her fingers openly, and a large, black cauldron materialized before me. It was half-filled with a turquoise, bubbling liquid. I gulped. My worst fears have been confirmed. This was not to be as easy as I thought.

Another snap of her brilliantly long fingers summoned three other faeries alongside her. Thelda was taking this seriously. I didn't think other faeries would be present. After all, unpracticed magic could be very weak and I don't think I'll be able to knock out all of them. Especially not my great aunt, who I know is a very powerful faerie. I calculated the odds in my head, and peered around anxiously. The power stone in my sock shivered, making the pink spots on the print of the sock shiver too.

"Planning an escape, are we?" Thelda looked at me contentedly, looking pleased at something. And then I knew why, "Gentlefaeries, be kind and take out that horrible lump in Rachel's sock. It must be bugging her so."

Gods. She knew all along.

I watched in horror as Thelda's sprites came towards me. My hands began to shake and clam up.

_Wait. My hands?_

Element of surprise, here I come.

I looked up at the sprites, waited a second, and ducked, retrieving the golden stone from the inside of my sock. It vibrated gently, and began to glow a bright red. Sparks danced merrily around me and I felt willpower, willpower to escape. It was driving me forward, fast as the wind, sleek as a fox.

And I sprinted up from my bond and threw the stone in a high arc in the air.

I don't know what drove me to do that, but it sure made things a lot worse.

It landed in the cauldron, with a slight_ plop_ as it hit the surface of the boiling turquoise foam, breaking the bubbly surface and sinking slowly, s l o w l y, s l o w l y.

How stupid am I.

Thelda looks at me, at the pot, and then gives a little giggle, her wings jiggling crazily.

"How nice of you, Rachel, to untie yourself for me. I'm honored." She laughs hysterically, and snaps her fingers again. The sprites walk up to me and grab me by the arm.

_Wait a second there. Untie. Wait. I can talk now. I CAN TALK NOW!_

And so, I screamed.

A chain reaction seemed to occur. It was almost as if my scream was the action of flicking a switch to a series of events on. Thelda suddenly shuddered, and crumpled to the floor, gasping for breath. Her dress of mist was quickly shattering (thank God she had underclothes on), and her eyes were bulging. Her brows were screwed up in concentration. The sprites that were clutching my arm were knocked unconscious by the force of my voice. The stone walls seemed to fracture before my eyes, sending a million crevices and cracks to rupture among the heavy stones.

The golden stone in the cauldron flung itself out of the cauldron and towards my hand.

The shock I received in the palm of my right hand was indescribable.

The tingling was in full force now, washing through my systems, towards every organ of my body. My brain was suddenly exposed to every single cell in my body. The feeling of contentment, angriness, joy, depression, concealment…every feeling that I've ever observed rushed through me, lighting everything with an invisible fire. I felt like nothing…and then everything. It was truly exciting. _I had golden magic._

What I didn't notice was Thelda, flying towards me at top speed, clad only in her panties. Her face was contorted in extreme anger and her wings were blurring with speed.

I don't know what hit me.

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**A/N: You know how its the reverted, classic, "You/she/he won't know what hit you/her/him?"**

**Yup.**

**Thanks for reading. I don't think its really necessary to tell anyone to review. No one is GOING to review. However, thanks to that anonymous one. At least it wasn't an anon. flame, like SyUmi. I seriously don't know what the deal is with her and alishoane. Having a meaningless fight over something completely stupid.**

Oh, well.


	9. 6: MaGiC!

**Here's the next one.**

**Disclaimer: Yeah, yeah...whatever. Just read it, please?**

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Chapter 6 MaGiC!

Aura Castle

Before I knew what was going on, I was engaged in a magical duel with the most powerful faerie of Aura. My great aunt, simply put.

"Let's see what you've got," Thelda spoke softly; she had stood up after shaking herself from my scream. She waved her hand in a circular motion and recited a spell to under her breath.

My breathing became erratical and extremely quick.

A flaming ball of luminous flames roared towards me, fixated itself upon me as its target. Behind it was Thelda, clutching her sides, panting, but still alive. That spell alone had drained her of much energy.

I panicked. A ball of fire can do that to you. I watched it as it burned its way across the floorboards, revealing a heavy layer of rock underneath. The fire came closer, egged on by the path of least resistance. I gulped. Unfortunately, I belong to that path of least resistance. The tongues of flames knocked the cauldron over, sending turquoise spume everywhere.

And then the fire became extinguished. A waterfall had blocked its path, yielding shoots of water and spray. I was shocked. Who did that?

The realization hit me just as quick. I had done that. Achieved my first magical spell.

Normally, this would have been a good time for Lumpy to come and become all teary and cry because his granddaughter had cast her first spell. A strong one, at that.

But, of course, there was no Lumpy here.

All there was, was a huge, fat serpent, emerald green in color, with fangs the size of my thighs. It was uncoiling itself, ready to strike for battle. Its scales cast off dazzling lights in every direction, and its bloody red tongue was hanging out, venom dripping at the edges.

Guess who it was heading for?

Me.

Obviously. How can my great aunt bear to do this to me?

_Remember? She's a crazy loony and ought to be chucked into the loony bin._

"I heard that," Thelda pouted. Why does everyone like to read my mind?

The large snake sank itself onto the stone floor (previously wooden, but it was charred by a mass of fire) and made a beeline for my polka-dotted stocking feet.

Its funny how well one can concentrate in the face of danger.

A giant, glittering sword, its golden hilt wielded by an invisible hand, chopped the snake up as if it were a cucumber. I sighed in relief.

And from relief, I heard music. Beautiful, glorious, music…

Every note reverberated into my soul and combined itself wonderfully with the next note. It teased my heart, made me yearn for more, and I felt my eyelids drooping towards the melody of an alluring, dazzling song. The harmony was divine, and it melted within me.

A good sleep would do nice at right about now.

But then, as my eyes were about close, I caught a glint of light in the air that made me shiver. A murderous glint. Thelda's round, blue eyes was the castor of that glint.

Almost immediately, I was wide awake. A wave of stormy bird chatter attacked Thelda's eardrums. _Boy, am I merciful_.

Thelda shrieks in frustration, and a ray of light blasts itself towards me, blinding me.

Darkness cuts through it.

I send another storm of bird sqwaks toward my great aunt and, as she intercepts it, she screams.

A scream of pain.

A scream worthy of a banshee.

And then, suddenly, the golden power stone in my hand trembles. A ray of golden light engulfs the entire dungeon room, and an aura of power surrounds me. Something queer is happening.

Thelda was clutching her chest, breathing heavily, and giving off great spasms. Her skin was tinged with dark, dark blue, her wings began to crumple and fold against the pressure of the ground, and her body seemed to buck, trying to get rid of itself of something.

I couldn't see anything, the sudden light captured my sight and I was left, just standing there.

Then everything went dark.

Total, complete, insubstantial darkness. I heard heavy breathing beside me, and guessed it was Thelda.

And as I was about to take a step forward and exit this darkness, something hit me on the side of my head.

For the third time today, I fell, once again, into unconsciousness.

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**A/N: Ii ne? Short, with plenty action.**

**O, and thanks for reading. Review, but I really can't understand why I even bother to ask.**


	10. Epilogue Part I

**Okay, nearly done. Bear with me for this last bit.**

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Epilogue, Part I

Greenwich, England, 3 Days Later

_Daisy Aphen gazed into the unseeing eyes of her daughter. She didn't understand this at all. She was gone for one night, and the next day she finds her husband and daughter all missing. Three days later, they turn up, right outside the door, a weary Arnold carrying an unconscious Rachel in his arms._

_She removed her eyes from her daughter's soft brown hair and redirected them towards the open window frame. The fig tree outside had seriously _got_ to be removed. The birds that roosted within those branches were the loudest birds she had ever heard._

_Then, suddenly, the occupant of the bed she was sitting on began to stir. _

_Rachel Aphen cracks open her eyes, to stare directly into the dark hazel irises of her concerned mother._

_"Mum?"_

_"Yes, darling?"_

_"Were you worried?"_

_"You know I was."_

_"Do you know where we went?"_

_"I've absolutely no clue."_

_"Oh. Well, mum, did you meet Lumpy?"_

_"_Lumpy?_" A note of incredulity. _

_Rachel seemed to deflate before Daisy Aphen's eyes._

_"It's fine, darling, I'm sure you just had a bad dream."_

_"…yes…I suppose so, mum."_

_Daisy Aphen picks her apron up off the bedpost, swings it over her head, and walks towards the door frame._

_"Tell, me when you want breakfast, love, and I'll fix it for you."_

_"Of course, mum…"_

_"See you, love…"_

_Rachel returns to her pillow, and as her head strikes against the soft, downy, fluff, a thought occurs._

Was it really all a dream?

_But it seemed so real._

_A maroon patch suddenly shows up before Rachel, mixing with the white of her comfortable shag carpet._

_She could've sworn that there was a pair of eyes hiding beneath that thatch of maroon._

_So it wasn't a dream after all._

**A/N: One more part of the eppie to go. Then I'll post the full disclaimer with the last bit to not violate FFN code, and I'll be done with this disastrous story.**

**Keep reading! Thanks for sticking with me this far! And review. Please.**

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	11. Epilogue Part II, With FULL Disclaimer

**Well, read this and you've completed the most boring fanfic on FFN. Thanks for reading all this crap!**

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Epilogue, Part II

Aura Castle, 3 Days Later

_The top-priority sprite soared again through the open window of Thelda's study. He was wearing a chaste grin, and hastened towards her desk._

_"Lookin' good, your majesty," he leans forward, and takes Thelda's hand. He brushes his soft lips against it, and Thelda blushes, a deep shade of green appearing on her attractive cheeks. _

_"Yes, of course, Verbil," she replies, and plucks a tiny package off of her desk. The small, brown object, wrapped in two layers of Aura's finest hide, slides off her hand and into Chix Verbil's awaiting palms. He grins, bows, and unfolds his transparent gossamer wings from his shoulder blades. A sprite was in the air._

_"I'll make sure it's on time," he says, before flying out the open panes of the window. Thelda waves and then travels the length of her study and back to her desk._

Greenwich, England; 2 Days Later

_Rachel Aphen is lying on her bed, covers thrown off, head bowed deeply in thought. A soliloquy of past few days was playing through her mind's theater._

_A movement outside the window catches her attention. Rachel caught a flit of gossamer wings outside, and immediately jumps off her bed, runs across the room, and throws her window wide open. The smell of sweet grass, moon water, and insects hit her nostrils, but nothing of importance appears._

_Rachel walks back to her bed, and rests her head upon the silk print of her pillow. A slight bump quivers beneath her neck. She immediately flips herself over to find a carefully wrapped parcel of small brown hide. Almost at once, she rips the hide apart, and a round, luminescent object rolls off the pillow and into her outstretched hand._

_A shiny, golden pebble, casting an odd red spark here or there into her fingers. A power stone. Not only that, but a _golden_ power stone._

_And on the back of the stone, carved and painted in shiny black gloss, was a familiar spidery writing._

"Aurum Est Potestas"

Fin

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**Full Disclaimer!**

**DISCLAIMER:**

**Some parts of the content of this story, such as the reference to a bowler hat, croquet ball-sized eyes, and any other reference you find familiar to, are from the series Harry Potter by UK author JK Rowling.**

"**Chix Verbil" is a renowned sprite of the LEP, as goes the series of Artemis Fowl created by Irish author Eoin Colfer. Some other concepts and ideas of magic are based on this series.**

**Any other concepts, characters, or ideas that you find are not related to or borrowed from the suggested book.**

**Much as the author wishes that she owns the above, all she owns is the plot and the original main characters (except for Chix Verbil).**

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A/N: Ok. Last author's note for this story. I think it'll be helpful to tell you, now, that this was a 7th Grade English project. Its not an actual fanfic. However, I did include Chixxie boy in the story, so I labeled it a fanfic. This full disclaimer was written for my teacher.

One year later, I decide to post this mainly due to the fact that I wanted for stories on my profile in FFN. Feel free to bash me for this unethical behavior, but, personally, I rather enjoyed writing this fic. In the end, it was rather rushed because I needed to finish it. Imagine this, me handing in a 35-page story while my fellow classmates grin sheepishly and slap down an easily-written 2-3 page project.

Thanks for reading! Please submit a review (though, my guess is that this fic will recieve no actual response from this quiet fandom)!


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